Chapter One: Solace

Lyra Malfoy poked her head around her brother's bedroom door. It was a big rectangle room with big windows that overlooked the gardens. It was early evening and dark outside already so the windows were covered by thick, green velvet curtains. There was an oriental rug covering most of the floor and all of Draco's furniture was made from dark, heavily carved wood. On the desk and on his bedside table oil lamps had been lit casting a soft yellow light over everything. Lyra's silver-blue eyes swept over the scene. Draco was lying across his bed in his black silk pyjamas reading a book. His white blond hair was still wet from the shower he'd just taken.

"Hi," Lyra said quietly, inching into the room.

"Oh, it's you," he said, looking up at her and giving her a ghostly smiling.

Lyra was fifteen, a little less than a year younger than Draco. She looked quite angelic. She had a sweet face and long, straight silvery-blonde hair. She was also very slim with soft, creamy fair skin the colour of milk. As she stepped into the room her long, flowing nightdress billowed around her legs.

Draco put his book down on the bed, open at the page he'd been reading and sat up, making space for his sister to come and sit with him.

"I brought you a drink," Lyra said, walking towards the bed and offering him one of the mugs of tea in her hands.

"Thanks," Draco said gratefully, taking the cup for her. He took a long sip. "What've you been up to?"

Lyra sat down beside him on the bed and leant her head against his shoulder. She took a sip of her tea. Draco inclined his head affectionately and looked down at her with his grey eyes, which were so much like their father's.

"Not much," Lyra admitted. "Just starting to get my Hogwarts things together, you?"

She straightened up and absently stroked her hand through Draco's fine, silver-blond hair. Lyra knew he was miserable, they all were. The house had been oddly quiet and empty all summer without their father, Lucius Malfoy, filling the place with his usual energy. Lyra thought of him, all the way out at sea, trapped in the wizard prison Azkaban and swallowed hard.

"Just reading…" Draco said, picking up the book and showing her the cover.

It was an old looking book bound in blue. Lyra recognised it from a series of books in her father's study, the title 'Strike!' was written in pointy golden text. It was a book of satirical cartoons taken from The Daily Prophet, mostly they were political but sometimes they were about the main headlines or general wizard culture. Draco was reading the 1939 edition.

"Why are you reading that?" Lyra asked, giving her brother a quizzical look.

"I wanted to see what the headlines were like when Grindlewald started taking over. You know, to compare. It's just something to do," he shrugged. "Is mum around?"

"She's gone to bed," Lyra told him. "She's been having a tough day. I think it's starting to dawn on her that she's going to be here alone when we leave for school at the weekend."

"How're you doing?" Draco asked, looking concerned.

He put an arm around her and drew her into a sideways hug. Lyra appreciated it. She shrugged and cupped her hands around her mug of tea. She didn't think she'd be able explain how she was feeling without crying, so she didn't. She just thought of how much she was looking forward to going back to Hogwarts. At least there she'd be busy and she'd have her best friend, Astoria Greengrass, to cheer her up.

"I'm doing better," Lyra said at last, with a little nod of her head.

"It's going to be alright," Draco assured her and put a comforting hand on her thigh. "I promise. I'm going to make it right."

Lyra looked down at his long, pale fingers on her leg, contrasting sharply with her navy blue gown. A smile played around the corners of her lips and she looked up at Draco. There was a blazing intensity in his eyes that made her trust him. She was glad to have an older brother to look out for her.

"Have you decided how you're going to do it?" Lyra asked, changing the subject.

She swung her feet up onto the bed and lay down on her side, making herself comfortable. Draco turned himself so that he could sit cross legged on his bed with his back against the ornately carved board. He didn't answer but he was smiling. He took another sip of his tea, leaving Lyra to wait for his reply.

"I'm not saying anything," he said in a superior tone, his smile broadening. "I'm keeping my options open right now. D'you think Potter will cry when his precious Dumbledore kicks the cauldron?"

Draco laughed maliciously, no doubt picturing the scenario.

"Who cares?" Lyra said. "Think about what the Dark Lord will say. You'll be honoured above the rest of them, probably even more than Aunt Bella! Dad'll be so proud."

"Yeah," Draco agreed, his eyes glittering excitedly in the dim light. "Yeah, he will."

Draco got to his feet and went over to his bedside table. Lyra sat up and picked up one of the pillows on her brother's bed and hugged it to her chest for comfort.

"It's weird though, to think that Snape's right under Dumbledore's nose," Lyra said thoughtfully. "I wonder what Snape told him to get his trust?"

"Dunno," Draco said straightening up. He was holding a glass bottle of pale yellow liquid and a flannel. "Probably some sob story about how he never meant any of it," he sneered.

"Yeah," Lyra agreed. "That sounds like something Dumbledore'd lap up."

Draco had sat down on the bed again and was pulling the stopper out of the bottle. It smelt strongly like antiseptic.

"What is that stuff?" Lyra asked, pushing the pillow up against her nose to quell the awful stench.

"It's murtlap essence," Draco said, pouring some onto the flannel. "Mum gave it to me. She said it'd help the stinging go down. It smells horrible, but it works. Can you give me a hand?"

Lyra shuffled forwards and reluctantly put the pillow down. Draco, who was holding the bottle upright with one hand and the flannel in the other, couldn't pull up the sleeve of his pyjamas without letting go of something.

Carefully Lyra pulled back the black silk to reveal an ugly reddish burn surrounding a shining, newly inked Dark Mark. It looked angry and painful.

"It looks a bit better," Lyra said uncertainly. It wasn't the mangled mess she remembered it being at the beginning of the summer but she thought it looked as if it was still going to be sore for sometime.

"Yeah," Draco assured her with a tense look on his face.

Lyra had gently pressed the cloth of murtlap essence to his left forearm. Draco's mouth thinned and she saw he'd clenched his jaw. After a few seconds he became less tense and seemed to relax as the liquid started to do its job.

"Do you think Slughorn will start his Slug Club thing again?" Lyra asked Draco, trying to take his mind off his arm. "Mum said her and father were members during their time. Do you think he'll try to get us to join?"

"I expect so," Draco said. "I wonder who else he'll be interested in? I hope he doesn't invite Granger just because she's read everything ever written to try and make up for the fact she's a Muggle."

"It'd be interesting to be invited," Lyra said, careful not to start Draco off on a rant about his bitter academic rivalry with Hermione Granger. "Mum never really said what they did at the Slug Club."

"It's getting late," Draco said, stifling a yawn. "I think I'm going to go to bed soon."

"Oh, okay," Lyra said faintly, taking the cloth from Draco's arm.

"You don't have to go," he said quickly, his grey eyes searching her face, telling her that he hadn't meant to offend her. "I was just saying."

"I can go if you want me to," Lyra said stiffly.

"No," Draco said quietly. "I want you to stay. What were you saying about the Slug Club?"

Lyra looked at her brother's handsome face, trying to work out if he was just being polite or not. He gave her an apologetic look, which satisfied her.

"I was just saying I wonder what people do. Is it just a sort of place to get to know other smart and ambitious people?"

Lyra, who was getting cold in just her thin nightgown, pulled back the covers on Draco's bed and slipped in.

"You should definitely go, Draco. Then you wouldn't have to hang around with Crabbe and Goyle all the time."

"I like Crabbe and Goyle," Draco said mildly, getting up again. "They're obviously not great intellectual thinkers or anything, but they're alright really."

He was putting the bottle of murtlap away as he spoke before going over to his desk and turning off the oil lamp.

"I mean, they're better company than Theodore Nott, who's got no sense of humour. Blaise is alright, but after a while he gets annoying – always going on about how amazing he is."

Lyra gave a snort of laughter. Draco was right. Blaise was a bit in love with himself, but then, most people were in love with him. In fourth year while most boys were going through their awkward teenage phase Blaise had become hot overnight. He was tall and lightly muscled with gorgeous chocolate skin and a luscious pouting mouth. He was also smart, played on the reserve Quidditch team and wasn't a complete jerk. At one point it seemed that all the Slytherin girls, except for Lyra, had a crush on him.

"I bet he gets an invite to the Slug Club," Lyra guessed, pulling the blankets up and packing them in around her. "His mum is famous."

"Yeah, famous for designing robes and killing her husbands! I can't really see Slughorn being all that bothered about fashion, to be honest," Draco said, rolling his eyes. "I mean, he's going to be the Potions Master. It's not the most glamorous job in the world, but you're right, it wouldn't surprise me. Fame is still fame after all."

Draco picked up the book he'd been reading and put it on his bedside table. "I wonder if he's going to stay long?"

"The Defence Against the Dark Arts post is supposed to be jinxed. Maybe Snape'll want his old job back in a year's time and Slughorn'll have to leave," Lyra speculated as Draco climbed into bed beside her.

"You know what? If he's only going to be back for the year then at least one of us had better be part of the Slug Club."

"Sound like you've got your heart set on it," Draco commented, shooting her a wry look as he arranged his pillows the way he liked them.

"If you've got a mission then I ought to have one too, even if it's not as important," said Lyra, pulling the blankets up around her ears and turning to face her brother.

She gave him a sweet smile, hoping that he wouldn't kick her out. She didn't fancy going back into her bedroom and having to warm up another bed. If she was honest Lyra didn't really like sleeping alone. She much preferred sharing a bed with her brother, who would curl himself protectively around her as they slept.

Draco smiled faintly and shook his head, more like he couldn't believe he was going to let her stay than saying she couldn't. Lyra smiled triumphantly.

She knew that Draco secretly liked having her there. Perhaps it was the small age gap or the fact that as children they hadn't really had anyone else to play with that had made them so close. Lyra didn't care what the reason was. She loved her brother and thought the world of him. She was always his first defender and he was always hers. When he'd first gone to Hogwarts she'd been worried that the bond between them would lessen, but as they got older it only seemed to get stronger.

"Don't snore, okay?" Draco teased as he reached to put out the last lamp.

"I don't snore, you snore," Lyra replied, but she was smiling.

The room went dark as the two siblings settled down to sleep. Draco inched close enough to Lyra to be able to put his arms around her. He was warm and his pyjamas were lovely and smooth against her cheek. Lyra felt safe and happy as she snuggled against Draco. She could hear his heart beating and his breaths, which eventually settled into a slow, rhythmic pattern.

"Do you think he's alright?" Lyra whispered tentatively.

Again her thoughts had drifted to their father. She imagined him in a dark, stone cell in a giant fortress with the sea pounding against the rocks. It made her worry. She knew what happened to people who spent time there. They came out reckless and a little mad, like their Aunt Bellatrix. Lyra didn't want that to happen to her father.

"Yeah," Draco said with conviction.

Lyra looked up at her brother. Her eyes had grown used to the dark so she could see the set, determined look on Draco's face. The moonlight gleamed in his grey eyes and added to his fervour. He glanced down at her and they simultaneously moved to closer to each other.

Draco's lips were smooth and warm against hers, barely there for a second and then gone. In that one second Lyra felt the sweetness of his concern for her. She hesitated a moment before closing the small space between them and kissing him again, just as chastely. When they were little they used to kiss back and forth until they were both giggling too hard to put their lips together. Draco must have remembered this too because he laughed a little jet of warm air and kissed Lyra's mouth a third time.

Lyra smiled and nuzzled against him affectionately. His arms tightened around her for a moment in a comforting squeeze.

"It'll all be okay, I promise," he whispered soothingly, before falling asleep.

A/N: Hey, so this is my first story in a while. Please read and review so I know if this is worth carrying on or not.